


Alec Lightwood Likes to Quote His Boyfriend

by thenovaksisters



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Boyfriends in love, I dont know how to tag, I'll try though, M/M, alec being a good bf, alec wants to make magnus relax and have fun, izzy being supportive, magnus is feeling very fond, validating thier love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 18:04:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11491764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenovaksisters/pseuds/thenovaksisters
Summary: “War’s don’t stop when the sun sets Alexander,” Magnus says sadly, trying to reign in the emotions seemingly getting the better of him tonight.“Weren’t you the one that told me I’d forget what I was fighting for if I didn’t grant time for the things I care about?” Alec replies.-------This is set directly after 2x15, Magnus has returned to his loft after Valentine escaped but Alec has other ideas of how this night will end and it involves cheering up his boyfriend.





	Alec Lightwood Likes to Quote His Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a headcanon I found on Tumblr of Alec mirroring Magnus’ words ‘if you fail to grant time for the things you care about…’ and Alec showing up at Magnus’ with flowers and a soft smile :)
> 
> I really loved this idea and I hope you like my spin on it :)

The irony is easily the most patronising aspect of all.

Behind his chest lingers the heat of alcohol. Heat consequential of two glasses of whiskey and a fervour to take the edge off this afternoon’s happenings. Not that he needs to. Try as he has to keep his mind to Valentine’s escape, no thoughts seem capable of evading the real concerns still clouding his mind: Alexander.

Well, Alexander isn’t the concern, he’d been the cure. That’s the ironic part.

Centuries of life experiences and nothing had prepared him for this: dating a shadowhunter. Because you’d have thought downworlders would be the understanding ones.

Mundanes are the easiest: as long as Magnus kept them as bay, away from the downworld as much as possible, he’d lived happy years with some, with most never learning about his magic at all. Fake years, Magnus reminds himself with a sigh into his third glass of golden liquor. Happy, _fake_ years.

There was once a time three glasses of whiskey would have calmed him but several hundred years has built him quite a high tolerance. Brooklyn too lies in a blanket of lights out before him; not nearly distracting enough to fend off these pestering thoughts.

Downworlders have always been a hit and miss for Magnus. Vampires and Warlocks live forever. Maybe _they’d_ be sympathetic? Yet Camille’s chuckle still rings in his head as if he’d confide in her only yesterday. How his stories had amused her, had washed over her and left her bright eyes somehow brighter, her wicked features sharpened to perfection.

A century ago, and her laugh still resonates with him. How he’d stayed despite of it because something about his past meaning nothing to her had stirred feelings almost akin to relief. He’d opened up and been rejected before. He’d opened up and caused treasured relationships to never feel the same.

Camille simply didn’t care; ‘cruelly so’ as Ragnor had warned him then. But he’d become addicted to the burn of the flame that licked at her heels and ignited in his chest the moment her purposeful touch graced his skin.

The irony is the most patronising aspect because you’d have thought downworlders would be the understanding ones. Except the only downworlders he’d opened up to had left or laughed. His shadowhunter had stayed.

So now Magnus has a dilemma on his hands: a desire to open up to Alec completely, and a fear of scaring him off; a young shadowhunter he has to remind himself is brand new to love and probably oblivious of how deep Magnus’ feelings run for him.

The ring of his phone startles him to say the least as he places the glass on the balcony edge and retrieves the ringing devise from his pocket, a fondness flooding his chest when he recognises the caller ID: “Alexander!”

“Hey, I wanted to check that you were okay, I was kind of preoccupied when you left the institute earlier,” Alec reveals, voice partly hashed as Magnus suspects he’s still at the institute and right in the centre of the commotion since Valentine’s escape.

“I’m fine,” Magnus starts, ignoring the slight inhale of breath he can hear on the other end of the line with the phrase he’s used too often over the last week. “My concern is you Alexander, how are things at the institute?”

“Never mind that, I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight?”

Magnus obviously doesn’t do a good job of hiding his shock when he remains silent, albeit he’s a little stunned with Alec’s suggestion, and the shadowhunter is stirred to continue: “Valentine escaped and right now, we don’t know how he did it or where he could be, but he’ll still be missing tomorrow.”

“Alexander, do you really think it’s wise to be away from the institute right now?” Magnus can hear the hesitation in his own words, he doesn’t want to be saying them but it really is something Alec should contemplate considering everything.

“I’m probably going to lose my position as head of the institute anyway and I could really use a drink,” he sighs in response and the warlock is aware of the pang of sadness the words incite.

Ever since he met Alexander, it was obvious he was born to be a leader. At the time, the shadowhunter had been burdened heavily with denial and repression, convinced that the time for him to lead would never arise. Now the thought of Alec losing all his earned, after all his fought for…

“War’s don’t stop when the sun sets Alexander,” Magnus says sadly, trying to reign in the emotions seemingly getting the better of him tonight.

“Weren’t you the one that told me I’d forget what I was fighting for if I didn’t grant time for the things I care about?” Alec replies and the warlock can hear the small smile on his lips.

“I suppose I was,” Magnus admits, yielding at least and letting a hesitant but nevertheless genuine smile cover his features, feeling his shadowhunters strength seep into him once again.

“Well I care about you, Magnus. I need to check off on a couple of reports but I’ll be there at eight?”

While the statement is posed as a question, Magnus can’t help but feel there’s only one answer to give as he hums an affirmation and Alec ends the call with a quiet but tender ‘I’ll see you then’.

Really, what did he do to deserve Alexander?

***

“Isabelle, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Magnus declares, at once gesturing for the shadowhunter to step inside.

“Alec asked me to come,” the girl chirps, and Magnus doesn’t miss the self-satisfaction gracing her striking features as she moves past him in the doorway only to stop a couple of paces into his loft. “Okay, he didn’t ask, but my brother told me about your date and, well, I needed to get out of that institute anyway.”

“Right…” If he’s totally honest, the warlock has no idea where Isabelle’s taking this at all, but her light mood is enough for him not to care, if only to soak up some of her optimism the girl always seems in an abundant supply of.

Valentine may have fled the claves capture only hours ago, but Isabelle looks as though she ready for a night out, eyes ignited with certainty. She’s dressed in a tight-fitting dress that does her body shape every justice, lips as always coated with a deep red and six inch heals she walks in as though she were born in them.

Aside for her whip, still wrapped keenly around her wrist, other than the precaution, she’s largely unarmed; or as unarmed as a shadowhunter would ever dare be. 

“A couple of months ago by brother was doomed to a life where my parents were going to choose him a bride and if the clave had their way, he’d probably be no closer to head of the institute. Because whether my brother likes to believe it or not, following all the rules actually doesn’t get you anywhere.”

“Where are you going with this, Isabelle?” The warlock interrupts, stepping past her into the main body of the loft once more, seeking out the glass he abandoned upon hearing the knock at his door, “Drink?” He then offers, and grins when the girl nods, not even passing a seconds hesitance on the offer. So alike Alec and so very different at the same time.

“I guess I never thanked you,” the girl says easily, and there’s where she and her brother blur lines because the words are spoken with such straightforwardness, Magnus can’t help the shocked look on his features.

“If it weren’t for you, my brother would be very unhappy, probably for the rest of his life.”

The warlock finds himself biting back an ear to ear grin and instead handing a glass to the girl, bringing their glasses together in a resonating clink: “I owe your brother a lot too.”

“When was the last time you did your make up without using magic?” Isabelle asks then, over the rim of her glass with an all-to-smug expression she fails to keep innocent.

“I love your brother dearly but Isabelle, wouldn’t you agree it is Alexander who perhaps needs your hand when it comes to getting ready for a date?” Magnus teases, delighted when this elicits a real laugh from her, shoulders shaking lightly and eyes dropping to the glass in her hand.

“I picked out his outfit. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“What’s gotten into the Lightwoods this evening? Is there not something you should be doing…” Magnus begins but is cut off when Isabelle shakes her head purposefully, like whatever decision she made coming her she is adamant to stick with.

“The Clave are going to try to throw the blame around as much as possible…”

“Does that include me?” Magnus can’t help but ask as they move to sit. It’s been a distant concern buzzing behind more pressing thoughts in his head, but it’s been there nevertheless since he left the institute a couple of hours ago. It was his portal that Valentine vanished in and the Clave aren’t exactly rational, patient people – particularly in regards to downworlders.

“You have more reason than anyone to want Valentine locked away, and Alec won’t let them blame you anyway.” Irrespective of the assurance carried in her statement, Magnus’ gaze is weighed down.  

“He may not have a choice.”

“Have you meet my brother when trying to protect the people he loves?” Isabelle says with jest to her tone. “You’re on that list now Magnus.”

When he glances up to meet her gaze, the warlock is almost taken aback by the shine in Isabelle’s eyes alongside the tenderness to her smile, dark ebony hair pulled up in a pony to make her look just a little more innocent than he’s used to from the young shadowhunter, and so genuine in that moment that she’s the splitting image of her brother.

Before her smug self-confidence melts into her eyes once more: “Now, are you going to let me do your make up and get you ready for this date with my brother?”

***

Magnus isn’t sure what he’s expecting when he opens the door.

He’s expecting Alexander, and they are indeed Alec’s gold-flecked hazel eyes the warlock meets. He’s expecting Alexander dressed by his sister and when he rakes a careful eye down the outfit that does too many devilish things to his shadowhunters lean body, Magnus can definitely agree that the outfit was Isabelle’s choosing.

He isn’t expecting the soft – albeit a little sheepish – smile on Alec’s face that accompanies a hand full of flowers. Rather beautiful flowers that Magnus considers for a moment before recognising as a type he’s had decorating his loft before, on the odd occasion.

Flowers the shadowhunter must have remembered.

The realisation fuels an almost irresistible urge to push Alec up against the nearest wall and kiss him senseless – an urge he resists, just, as instead he grins widely and gestures for Alec to come in.

“Alexander.”

“Hi, these are, ur, for you.” To his credit, Alec doesn’t stutter atrociously and successfully hands Magnus the flowers keeping his eyes trained to his boyfriend.

“They’re beautiful, you’ll wait while I find them some water.”

The action would be simple enough with magic, a click of his fingers and he and Alec could leave arm in arm and set off on this date that Magnus is fast becoming unnecessarily anxious and keen to start.

However, at the same time, he wants to freeze this moment and breath in every aspect of it. From everything Alec, to the nostalgia the flower’s scent incites in him – getting to know Catarina and taking her to a café close to where he once lived many lives ago, a café filled with the very same flowers.   

He wants to take in the light blush of Alec’s cheeks and the raw contentment gleaming in his eyes. He wants to remember all of it, and for once he wants to feel all of it in an action undictated by magic.

When he returns, Magnus lets his eyes run down the length of Alec’s outfit to fully take it in this time. Alec’s in his same black jeans he often sports however, tight across his chest and just right around his shoulders, he wears a button up in a dark navy colour. Even his hair looks slightly more styled than usual.

“So, do I get to know where we’re going?”

Alec seems to survey Magnus for a minute, a grin gradually taking place between his handsome features, before him hums and shakes his head: “I’m surprising you.”

It’s Magnus’ turn to grin in return, slinging his arm through Alec’s as they leave the loft in their wake. “You are so very good at that.”

***

Initially, Magnus is pretty sure Isabelle picked out the venue as well as Alec’s outfit. When they arrive, they arrive at a club filled with downworlders in abundance. The atmosphere is hot and frenetic, a smog of coloured smoke across the dance floor that is partially obstructed from view by the masses of bodies moving around it to the beat of music pulsing through the clubs body.

After Alec’s already lead them over to the bar, ordered them drinks and even elicited a smile from the bar tender, Magnus can only assume Alec’s been here before – if the lack of tension in his shoulders says anything – so it might have been Alexander’s choice after all, even if it’s likely he’s only been because of Jace and Isabelle before.

Alec orders Magnus’ usual, which sends a childish bolt of puppy-love affection through the warlock, but they’ve no sooner finished their drinks and Magnus is eager for answers.

Turning to his boyfriend, so they face each other fully, he grins and drinks in the sight of Alec’s blushed checks and dark eyes; he looks positively sinful in the moody club lighting and Magnus can’t get enough of it.

“I thought you didn’t like this sort of thing?” The warlock waves a passing gesture to the dance floor and the people in their multitudes; the noise around them has somehow dulled in the minutes since their eyes met and now even the once deafening music sounds as if it’s coming from underwater.

“Jace and Izzy drag me here often,” the shadowhunter admits – so Magnus was right. “But it means I get to do this,” his tone drops lower as Alec crowds Magnus’ personal space and all at once, the warlock is aware of the bar edge pressing against his back, “and no one cares.”

Alec’s right: The majority of people surrounding them are pressed up against each other one way or another, and when Alec’s usually hesitant showing public affection, this simple fact means that standing flush against each other draws no attention to them at all so suddenly Alec has all the confidence in the world.

“The music could be better though,” the shadowhunter says as an afterthought, and while the warlock’s laugh surprises him, Alec takes it in his stride, grinning widely at Magnus and standing, bringing their bodies even closer.

Drunk on Alexander and this blissful feeling of proximity, the warlock lets himself melt into Alec’s touch, every concern – every heavy feeling from his confession to Valentine’s escape to anything else outside of Alec right here and right now – dissolves around him.

Alec may not be the most confident dancer, but if Magnus is honest, there isn’t much room to dance anyway and he can’t complain when he ends up pressed against his shadowhunter.

And when Alec drops his forehead against the warlocks to sigh happily, feeling Magnus close, another lightning bolt of undivided love and affection for his hazel-eyed boyfriend shoots up the warlocks spine, prompting him to lift his arms around the shadowhunters neck and hold him close.  

 “I love you, my Alexander.”

Alec hums at that, eyelids flickering closed: “I love you too.”

 


End file.
